


Black Ice

by solar_celeste



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batmobile Crash, Blood and Injury, Brotherly Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen Batfam Christmas Stocking, Icy roads are dangerous, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Snow Storm, Well - Freeform, car crash, folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22078882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solar_celeste/pseuds/solar_celeste
Summary: The Batmobile crashes and Robin breaks a wing, all because of some good-natured bickering and a patch of black ice.
Relationships: Jason Todd & Damian Wayne
Comments: 8
Kudos: 296
Collections: Batfam Christmas Stocking 2019





	Black Ice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Evergreena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evergreena/gifts).



> I'm so sorry this is kind of late! Hope you enjoy nonetheless :)

Ice chips smash against the glass if the windshield. It's snowing, almost hailing it’s coming down so hard, and it making it really hard to see. Red Hoods driving, gloved hands holding onto the steering wheel so tightly his fingers ache. The tires look traction for a moment, skidding on a pitch of black ice before the vehicle re-centers.

Jason hisses through his teeth, this was  _ not  _ how he had thought his night would go and he was starting to regret ever stepping into the field. Bruce had told him not too, practically attempted to ground the man when he had tried to leave. (Batman has taken an awful beating not three patrols ago and was still on medical leave, huddled away in bed and under Alfred’s watchful eyes, and was not a fan of those patrolling without him capable of helping.) 

_ “Someone’s gotta fight your war, Bruce.” Jason had snapped. Bruce’s brow had lowered more in response, his eyes narrowing as he held his ground. _

_ “Not tonight, not in the storm.” He had growled. _

_ Jason shook his head, “crime doesn’t give two shits about having snow days.” He had left without another word. _

Of course that entire conversation had been  _ before  _ he knew the brat was going to stow-away. The little demon had been in house arrest anyway, probably hadn’t eaten his vegetables or something, and wasn’t supposed to be on the field,  _ especially  _ without supervision. 

Still, Damian had appeared at Jason’s side halfway through patrol, scowl in place and hands already curled into fists. He hadn’t even had the decency to give Jason an option, just sauntered past him and climbed into the passenger's side of the Batmobile. 

So now was Red Hood not only zipping through the city unsteadily on a sheet of  _ ice  _ but he was carrying precious cargo. 

_ Just fan-fucking-tastic. _

He had a weird relationship with the kid, a distant one. They didn’t really talk much, just a couple times during patrol or when Jason would come by the manor for a hot meal from Alfred. The brat was always off putting and frankly a little skittish from what Jason had seen. At home he kept his space, never really talking to anyone unless he was instructed or first talked to. Tell tale signs of past abuse, at least in Jason’s experience. 

On patrol though, Damian was a different person. He was strong willed and had a drive that Jason admired, even if it was a little suicidal, and he was  _ good.  _ He knew nearly as many different fighting styles as Bruce and he had his technique nearly perfected. 

He was inconsistent though.

Some nights the kid would let completely loose, fists and blood flying angrily, without a shit for anyone’s opinion on the matter but definitely with purpose. Other nights though, he almost  _ pulled  _ his punches, a dangerous thing when taking on opponents three times your size. Damian would be looking over his shoulder these nights, as if he was trying to gauge the reaction of whichever other hero he was with.

Jason’s didn’t say anything about these nights, about the skittishness or the subtle flinches, but he wondered if anyone else had noticed it and, if they had, if they had paid it any mind. Dick or Bruce needed to give the matter proper attention, It wasn’t Jason’s job. 

And neither was  _ babysitting. _

“Would you  _ stop  _ messing with the controls!” Jason snapped for the thousandth time. The kid was starting to irritate him,  _ really _ irritate him. He was snappier than usual and couldn’t keep his sticky fingers off of the damn controls.

Damian shot him a glare, eyes so heated they looked like they had come straight off of Bruce himself, and flicked another switch on the console. Something near the rear of the Batmobile  _ chinked  _ before Jason felt the accelerator kick up a notch. 

“What the  _ fuck  _ did you just do?” He hissed.

Damian glared again, “getting us back  _ faster _ , Todd,” he snarled. The kid reached his arm out again then, going for another button on the dash. Jason moved quickly, hand flying out to catch the offending arm before the stray bird could do any more damage. The weather was picking up, ice and snow beating down, and the roads were becoming slicker. They needed to get home soon, yes, but each in  _ one  _ piece.

It was because of this that he hadn’t seen the shininess of the road ahead of them, that he hadn’t had the proper time to break or at  _ least _ slow the car down enough to take proper control. The tires hit a slippery patch of black ice, the rubber squealing and the vehicle moving harshly to the left on its own accord.

Jason hurried to right the Batmobile’s direction but even with his best attempt he didn’t have enough time. They were on the long stretch of road between the heart of the city and the manor, each side of which was lined thickly with trees. The road itself was narrow, barely big enough for two cars and the Bat-mobile had a width larger than just one. 

The front of the car had smashed into a cluster of trees in seconds. 

The hood of the vehicle crunched inwards, as it was designed to do in order to prevent major injury, and the airbags exploded to life. Glass shattered into millions of miniscule fragments and debris rained down on both of them. Something popped behind them before the engine sputtered out. Smoke from the car and dust from the canvas airbags flooded the air around them. 

“Fuck!” Jason coughed, sharp and loudly before reaching for the door which rested uneven on its hinges. His ear rang.

By some miracle, even with all of the damage, he was able to pull himself out of the car with minimal injury. His shoulder felt dislocated and his face hurt from the impact of the airbag but all in all, he was stepping away from a major car wreck with nothing more than a serious case of whiplash. 

He waved a hand in front of his face to try and clear the air and shook his head to rid himself of the ringing in his ears.  _ What the  _ fuck _ had even happened anyway- _

Oh shit,  _ Damian _ .

“Kid?” Jason called, hurrying to the passengers door of the vehicle, he had to go around the back since the front was flush against the foliage.

His first cause of worry was the car door that had settled five feet from the vehicle itself, hinges torn straight from the metal and bent as if Superman had done the damage himself. The second was that despite this fact, Jason still couldn’t  _ see _ into the passengers side.

The door frame had collapsed downward and the mix of the that, the airbag, and stray fragments blocked his view of Robin entirely.

The lack of response was Jason’s third cause for worry. 

“Kid?” He asked again, concern becoming evident in his voice. Perhaps Damian was just playing tricks on him, the kid was probably fine, sitting in his little cocoon and completely unharmed. It wasn’t unusual for the little demon to play ruthless tricks like that.

Still, Jason hurried in his approach, his large boots kicking the quickly building snow aside. He hurried to the side of the door, working on a way to extract the kid from the entanglement of car parts. 

He could smell blood, and operated with carefully measured movements.

He choked on a gasp when he finally caught sight of the brat. He was awake, if barely, eyes opened in small, glossy slits. His uniform was a canvas of dark and light red, the mixture of blood on the fabric. 

Jason got to work quickly. 

Damian’s boot had caught somewhere in the foot-well and prying it out had not exactly been a pain free experience.

Something had also gone wrong with Damian’s airbag, a fragment of the dashboard had caught on it, and the long, sharp piece of plastic had impaled itself into Damian’s shoulder. Something else, probably debris, had swiped a large gash across the kids lower torso.

The mix of injuries had the kid nearly unconscious.

He left the plastic where it was, knowing to wait until there was proper medical available before removing such a large object, it wouldn't do either of them any good for the kid to lose more blood. He then carried the kid away from the hissing -and still smoking- vehicle (incase a gas leak caused something to ignite) as quickly and gently as he could Jason lowered them both carefully to the ground. 

Jason considered his options, they were still a good mile or two from the manor and even if that was a walkable distance, Damian was in no condition to be jostled. Instead, he reached for Damian’s ear and extracted his com, since calling for help seemed like the best option and Jason’s own com had been knocked out from the impact of the crash.

“This is Red Hood, Robin and I were in a crash about a mile and a half north of the cave. The kid is critically injured,” he said once the device was firmly in his ear. 

He heard nothing but static from the other end.

Perhaps the com has been damaged in the crash, or maybe there was no one manning the lines tonight, since no one was supposed to be patrolling in this weather in the first place. _That_ _included little birds,_ Jason thought somewhat bitterly.

“W-wouldn’t have h-happened if-“ Damian suddenly said, pausing to cough wetly, “i-if I was d-driving,” Damian choked, a hint of tease to his tone. Jason glared down as him, pressing more firmly on the kids stomach wound, trying to stem the sluggish bleeding. He couldn’t help but send a glance down to the kids mangled foot. 

“Quit talking,” Jason snapped. “And keep your blood inside of you!” He said, hoping more and more desperately that help was close. The snow around them was quickly turning red with Damian’s blood and, at least compared to Jason, the kid was the size of an  _ infant _ , he didn’t have blood to spare.

“Got to- got to stay ‘wake s’m how,” Damian slurred, still bent on arguing even with holes littering him and a chunk of plastic protruding from his shoulder. 

Despite the situation, Jason chuckled, “right kid, yeah.” 

Damian was silent after that though, quiet except for his labored breathing, masked eyes flickering around the area. Jason continued to apply pressure, switching between stemming the bleeding and using materials from Damian’s utility belt to field dress his wounds. It wasn’t until they were both drenched and shivering tha someone spoke. 

“Th-thank you.” Damian stuttered, wincing slightly. 

Jason’s fingers paused for a moment. “For what, kid?”

Damian gave a wet cough, “a-assisting me even th-though I caused the w-wreck.” 

Despite himself, Jason found himself saying: “don’t sweat it, the weather caused the wreck, kiddo. Not you.” 

“M’not a child.” 

“That’s the Damian I know and love. Glad to know that your head’s okay,” Jason said. Instead of soothing the kid though, Damian stiffened before peering up at his older brother. 

“W-what?” He stuttered. 

“I’m glad your head’s okay?” Jason asked.

“Buh-before,” Damian rasped.

Jason thought about what he had said, he had just been trying to joke, add some comedic relief to the situation. It was a common expression too,  _ that's the Damian I know and _ \- oh. “Wait kid, you didn’t- you know I love you right?” He asked. Because,  _ yeah,  _ the bats weren’t the most affectionate type but they weren’t  _ monsters _ . At least everyone had been told they were loved at least  _ once. _ Was it a possibility that Damian hadn’t been told that by anyone other than Dick? 

Damian didn’t answer. 

“Dames, we all love you,” Jason was quick to say. “Even if we’re all emotionally constipated. Dickies not the only one that cares for you, kiddo,” He promised, silently cursing himself. He had  _ known  _ that he should have stepped in sooner, that he should have said something to Bruce about treating Damian like an actual  _ kid _ every once in a while, about inviting him into a room and telling him -as straightforward as possible- that he loved him, because even for all his stubbornness, it was obvious that Bruce  _ loved _ Damian. He would have to talk to the man when they got back- which would, hopefully, be soon.

“I,” Damian spluttered, “I- thank you, Todd.” He said, at a loss for words. Still, a thank you from the great “blood son” was as close to an admission of love as one could get from the boy. Jason allowed himself a small smile in response, couldn’t let the kid make him  _ too  _ mushy-gushy after all, can’t have Dick out of a job. Besides, the revving of an engine and the squealing of wheels prevented him from replying with any actual words. 

They both looked down the road, in the direction of the manor. Large black snow tires carried an older Batmobile model towards them, barreling through the two feet of snow with ease. Sitting in the front seat, fully uniformed and looking every ounce of Wayne, was none other than Cassandra. 

Jason looked down with a full grin this time and patted Damian’s uninjured shoulder. “You’re gonna be just fine, kid.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't a huge fan of the ending but I pondered over it for a while, re-read it 10000 times and still couldn't figure out a way to make it better so.... yeah. (Also if anyone knows if its Batmobile or Bat-Mobile, be my guest to correct me)
> 
> Happy New Years everyone!
> 
> Comments are my coffee :)


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